I turned off the light and drifted into that floating sensation, not asleep but drowsy, half awake and half asleep. Often, while in this state -- lovely, unknown faces float before me -- but this morning the experience was different. A perfect face of a child came before me in profile -- then it turned and smiled at me. It was glowing with light and seemed to fill my own head with light. I was aglow and excited and thought, "This must be the Christos"; but something within me, without sound, said, "No, this is you." I feel I will never be the same again and some day I may experience the "Promise".
At midnight the whole valley lay suspended in the mountain's spell. This was the silent center of prayer: the quiet, the poverty of darkness that made you appreciate the light. Everything bright was pure gift at midnight and praise rose to your lips for the God of the moon and stars; and if you saw a fire burning in the valley, you felt warm and somehow connected with those countless fires that burn in the hearts of people everywhere. You knew communion. And that was the great secret of prayer.